


love

by silveriris



Category: Deus Ex (Video Games), Deus Ex: Human Revolution, Deus Ex: Mankind Divided
Genre: Angst, Bisexual Male Character, Dissociation, Empathy, F/F, F/M, Father-Son Relationship, Headcanons Everywhere, M/M, Spoilers, Spoilers for System Rift, Vacdam, jensard, vague spoilers for Mankind Divided
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-29
Updated: 2017-01-21
Packaged: 2018-08-27 18:32:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8412052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silveriris/pseuds/silveriris
Summary: There are different types of love. Short stories about Adam Jensen and other people that he loves, in a way.





	1. MEGAN REED

**_eros_ **

**[** **intimate love]**

* * *

 

Adam didn’t exactly _hate_ social gatherings. He disliked them because they were essentially a waste of time. Besides there was something wrong with people trying very hard to pretend they liked each other while in reality they didn’t care one bit.

He was rather grumpy, not that he was usually the most cheerful person in the room, but he didn’t complain when he stepped into the building of Sarif Industries with Megan Reed by his side.

She wore a deep red dress. He pictured it lying on her bedroom floor, while Megan stretched on the bed, looking at him with a smile on her lovely lips. _Later_ , he thought, hoping Sarif won't keep them here all night.

Lately their relationship wasn’t working out as well as it used to. Megan started spending more time on some projects she didn’t exactly want to talk about. Adam felt like their life together wasn’t a number one priority anymore – not that he ever complained about it. Even though on some level he knew that he should before it’s too late.

There were days when he didn’t see Megan because she chose to stay at work. There were days when they argued, more and more. The honeymoon was over, one could say. But at times like this, when they could simply spend time together, nothing else mattered.

Megan had her hair loose, a rare sight, cascading down her shoulders; a string of pearls decorated her slender neck. Adam listened to her talking to her fellow scientists, not really paying attention to what anyone was saying. One could say he was admiring the view. Because Megan Reed was someone who should be admired, especially when she wore this red dress that made it difficult for him to focus.

She glanced briefly at him, her eyes slightly narrowed, and he wished the party was already over. But it wasn’t, they just got here in fact, so Adam let out a sigh and tried very hard to appear interested in whatever was going on around him.

Adam's eyes scanned the crowd, noticing familiar faces. From what he could see, Sarif invited almost all of his employees, most likely to boost up morale and make people forget they had to work extra hours for the last couple of weeks.

Sarif himself was busy giving a speech about The Future of Humankind, his favourite topic. His voice was loud and clear, and as he spoke his eyes glimmered with passion. Even if one of his guests disagreed with him, they wouldn't dare to interrupt because when David Sarif was talking, he forced people to listen.

Then Jensen’s gaze returned to Megan. The more he looked at her, the more he realised how perfect she was. She gave his arm a gentle squeeze. He could feel her warmth, and the familiar smell of her perfume.

“Excuse us, for a moment,” Megan said, pulling Adam away from the crowd.

He followed her, confused, to an empty hallway where the sounds of music and voices were muffled.

“Is something wrong?” he asked. Even after being together for so long, she was still full of mysteries.

Megan didn’t reply but smiled, it was another of her magnificent smiles that made his heart beat faster. She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close. She placed a kiss on his lips, the warmth and sweet smell of her body making him dizzy.

“It would be rude to leave so soon,” she whispered, her lips brushing his ear. “And we don’t want to disappoint David.”

He was very close to telling her how little he cared about disappointing Sarif.

“Megan – ” he began. She put a finger on his lips, slightly shaking her head.

“Let’s go back before people start talking.”

Feeling utterly helpless, Jensen nodded, acutely aware how much power this woman had over him.

Perhaps that was one of the reasons why he loved her so much.


	2. DAVID SARIF

**_storge_ **

**[natural empathy, like that felt by parents for offspring]**

* * *

 

The juice in his glass had a colour similar to whiskey, reminding Adam just how much he wanted to drink something stronger than what the facility had to offer. Now that he could move freely again, he considered asking one of the nurses to bring him something better than this damn juice. And a packet of cigarettes, though he wasn’t sure if his new lungs allowed him to smoke. His lips twisted into a snarl.

He gasped in surprise when the glass shattered in his hand.

Staring at the water dripping down his augmented arm, Adam blinked in confusion. He could remember the feeling of water on his skin but this... This was something else completely. It was as if he was observing some other Adam Jensen crushing glasses in his new augmented arms. He didn't know this man, and yet somehow that man was him.

Thinking about it only made his headache worse. With a hiss of annoyance, Adam pushed the pieces of glass from the bed on the floor, then wiped his hand on the bedsheet. The fabric under his fingers felt odd.

“Adjusting takes time, son.”

David Sarif stood at the door, looking impeccable as ever. He stepped inside the room, glancing at the shards on the floor with a hint of concern in his eyes.

Adam scoffed. He had heard the line before, and he would probably hear it again because it seemed it was everyone's favourite thing to say to him now.

After the attack, once he finally regained consciousness and discovered what happened to him, almost every day Adam met someone who looked at him in a way people usually look at  sad little puppies. For some reason they felt entitled to pity him. He could barely stand it.

Some treated him like an experiment of sorts, others liked to remind him how lucky he was that he was still alive. They liked to say it was a miracle.

_It’s no fucking miracle_ , he wanted to spit at them every time he heard their excited voices. What was the point of this _miracle_ , if he wasn’t himself anymore and so many people died?

The image of Megan’s big eyes looking at him with so much _fear_ didn’t want to go away no matter how hard he tried. He dreamed about saving her but never could, even in his dreams. Although they weren’t together at the time, he still loved her in some pathetic way.

“It’s a stupid thing to say, I know,” Sarif sighed. He came closer, and sat on a chair next to Adam’s bed. “But it’s true, I assure you.”

Jensen opened his lips but closed them moments later, deciding there was no point in arguing with Sarif. He let his frustration grow, pushing it deeper, pretending it doesn’t exist. One day he wouldn’t be able to take it anymore, and he would lash out like a wild animal. For now, his regret only made him bitter and powerless, as every day he discovered something new about his augmented body.

It was about the small things, like a glass shattering in his grasp because his new hand wouldn’t listen to him.

It was about the bigger things, like the fact that he died, but someone decided to bring him back and keep alive. That it wasn't his decision. Nothing was _his_ anymore, even his own damn body felt different, alien to him.

“We’re going to keep you here for a longer while. Once we make sure everything’s fine with your augs, you’ll be free to go.”

Sarif continued, paying no attention to Adam’s irritation. He sounded tired, and for a moment Jensen felt uneasy listening to him. David Sarif always appeared invulnerable. Now, however, his usual smile as well as the spark in his eyes were gone. He looked deeply worried – especially when his gaze returned to Adam.

“When I first got this hand, I couldn’t quite make it work,” he laughed, a sad little sound. He raised his augmented hand, balled it into fist observing how it moved with some sort of fascination. “I preached how amazing augs are but when I got one myself it felt far from great. Imagine my frustration.”

Jensen listen, captivated by Sarif’s voice, so honest and raw. His anger gradually disappeared, replaced by shame. He should stop acting like a spoiled brat, he knew that. But at the same time, it wasn’t easy, nothing was anymore.

“I could feel my hand touching my cheek but at the same time it wasn't my hand. It's one of the things people don't talk about. You hear about neuropozyne dependency all the damn time, how the drug supposedly ruins everyone's life once they get augmented.” He shook his head, something like a sarcastic smile appeared on his lips for a brief moment.

“But what people don't want to talk about,” Sarif continued, “is that feeling of _otherness_ you experience when you get an augmented limb. You were once a whole, then you suddenly realise you have _parts_. And these parts doesn't exactly belong to you.”

Adam wanted to interrupt, say something, anything, but couldn’t. He listened, captivated by the honesty in David’s voice. The words hurt because deep down he knew they were true.

“But no matter how many parts get replaced, you’re still you. Try to focus on that, son.”

Sarif patted him on the shoulder. His smile was back, he was once again the confident CEO of one of the most profitable companies in the world. Yet sadness didn’t quite left his eyes, making Adam wonder if Sarif learned to hide it so well others wouldn’t notice.

“Think about it, Adam. You were given a chance, and I trust you that you won't waste it. So yes, adjusting takes time. But it’s worth the wait.”


	3. X

**_philautia_ **

**[focus on the self instead of the other person]**

* * *

 

_What's your name again..?_

She glanced at him again, her lips curled into a smile. He should be embarrassed, but he merely felt confused that he couldn't remember this woman’s name. CASIE notifications popped up in front of his eyes, describing the girl’s quickened heartbeat and blushed cheeks. He turned it off, annoyed.

Adam wasn't exactly sure why he decided to go to a club. It wasn't something he wanted to do, to be honest. Then things happened so quickly he couldn't quite understand why the woman started talking to him, or why they shared a drink (or two). Why he nodded when she suggested going back to her place (“It's just around the corner,” she said with a playful smile, caressing his arm), and why his mind felt so empty as he stepped inside her apartment.

It was as if he was observing someone else doing all this, and yet he knew it was him. It felt like a dream, but in the same time everything was real, so raw and vivid. He felt slightly irritated just trying to comprehend what was happening to him.

The place was a mess. Adam thought that he had a problem with cleaning, especially now when he didn't quite know how to grab things properly. It resulted in many crushed things, like pieces of glass lying on the kitchen floor, resembling a spiky carpet. It didn't matter much considering his new feet didn't bleed when he stepped on all that glass (to make sure there was still something left of him, he picked one piece and pressed it to his chest just to see a small drop of blood appear on his skin).

He should take care of all that mess he left in his apartment... One day he would, Adam knew, but it mattered little now as he let the girl led him to her bedroom.

He left his coat on a chair by the wall, the only piece of furniture that seemed relatively clean. _Does she have a dog?_ , he mused, noticing a bowl half full of water placed near the door, seconds later registering a distinctive smell of dog food. The girl didn’t say a word about having a pet; she didn’t talk much about herself, now that he thought about it. Maybe that was why Adam couldn’t remember her name.

From the moment she started talking to him, she had a smile on her face. The kind of smile that was supposed to be mysterious yet inviting, as if saying _You and I are going to have so much fun together_.

Adam wouldn’t describe this as ‘fun’. He had trouble thinking clearly, as if there was something blocking his mind.

He was acutely aware of everything that was around him; the way this woman smelled (too sweetly for his liking), the taste of her lips, the warmth of her body pressed to his. He heard cars driving on the street below, muffled music coming from another apartment. And yet it all felt like it was happening to someone else, and the _real_ Adam Jensen was floating somewhere far away in some unspecified dimension.

He could feel her touching his arms, and yet he couldn't because it was as if she was touching parts of him that didn't really exist.

Was it because he couldn’t remember her name no matter how hard he tried?

He used to have a scar on his arm, just above his elbow, one of many scars on his body. It wasn't there anymore, his arms replaced by new, artificial limbs with no scars, marks or bruises.

Suddenly a memory of Megan tracing the scar with her index finger appeared in his mind. “What about this one?” she asked. Her own body was perfect; no scars, just soft warm skin.

Adam took a long, shuddering breath, the thought dissolving in his mind. Megan Reed was dead, and his old scars were gone. The girl who was looking at him smiled in a way Megan would never smile.

Her eyes glistened with lust, her face flushed red as she took his hand in her small (soft, pink, _real_ ) hands to kiss his fingers. Maybe in her mind the gesture was endearing, yet for him there was something obscene in the way she wanted him. Because she didn't want all of him, only parts of him. She desired all these shiny black and golden wonders of modern technology David Sarif so generously gave him so Adam Jensen could be whole again.

_If we met six months ago, would you even look at me?_

She didn't seem to mind his gripping her hips hard enough to bruise. Her flesh was soft and warm under his fingers. He could squeeze harder, snap her bones with so much ease he nearly burst out laughing at the thought she idolized parts of him that were designed to kill.

_You wouldn't._

His mind was empty, no more intrusive thoughts, everything silenced by the pounding of his heart.


	4. FARIDAH MALIK

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: major spoilers for Shanghai Justice mission in Human Revolution

**_philia_ **

**[affectionate regard, friendship between equals]**

* * *

 

“You might want to stick around for a second. I’ve got one last little surprise for our friend Lee.”

Malik walked away, leaving Jensen utterly confused, though the _surprise_ was revealed soon enough. Lee Hong's face was displayed on the front door of the Hive, while his confession played loudly so everyone both inside the club on the street could hear it. A group of people stopped to stare at Hong's face with a bright red word MURDERER blinking on the screen. After a moment they started whispering to each other. _Shanghai street justice indeed..._

“Malik,” Jensen said, connecting to the pilot via the infolink. “Remind me never to piss you off.”

“After everything you've done here, for Evelyn– for me... you'd have to try pretty hard, mister.”

More people gathered. Jensen observed the spectacle for a little while, then turned to walk away before anyone noticed him.

Malik sounded calm, and he could picture the smile on her face as she spoke to him, and yet… There was a hint of sadness in her voice.

He _could_ ignore it. He did what he could for her without asking questions. It was pretty clear Malik wasn’t a sharing type. If she wanted to talk, she would talk to him; if she wanted to hide something, then it was her choice.

The thing was that Adam Jensen could never simply ignore people in need. Especially the ones he considered his friends. So naturally he couldn’t ignore the sad tone in Malik’s voice. Adam only hoped he wouldn’t regret his decision later.

It wasn’t difficult to track her down, though it was rather surprising to discover the pilot went to some shady bar. It wasn’t in her style – but then again, what did he really know about Faridah Malik? Not much, Adam had to admit with guilt.

Busy drinking whatever was in a glass in her hand, Malik didn’t notice him until he sat down right next to her.

She turned her head, then blinked rapidly like she couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Adam merely nodded.

She gave him a look, frowning slightly. “What are you doing here?”

“I thought about having a drink with my favourite pilot.” He said, sounding as casual as he could.

“That’s so much bullshit you should be ashamed.”

“Just telling the truth,” Adam replied. As if to demonstrate his true intentions, he retracted his sunglasses to look Malik in the eyes. “But if you don’t want me here, I’ll go…”

She waved her hand. “Stay if you want. I’d be a total jerk if I kicked you out after you helped me deal with Hong.”

Jensen asked the bartender for a drink. The place wouldn’t be his choice if he wanted to meet with someone. Though he got his order surprisingly quickly, and the bartender seemed okay for a guy working in such shabby place. On the other hand, Adam didn’t like the way three tattooed guys were glaring at him from the moment he stepped inside. But for now he decided to focus on Malik. He was here for a reason, after all.

“Thank again, Adam. I wouldn’t have done it without you,” Malik said, accepting another drink from the bartender.

She was done with it before Jensen got a chance to speak. He raised his eyebrows observing the blush rising in her cheeks.

“I think you’re supposed to _sip_ it. To, you know, enjoy the taste.”

She glared at him. Even if Faridah wasn’t a trained assassin, there was something frightening about her.

“You asked me to remind you never to piss me off. This is your first warning.”

She got another drink while he didn’t even finish his first one. _Rough night, huh?_

The alcohol in his mouth didn’t taste quite right, or maybe having all these augmentations made him way too sensitive to simply enjoy things. He sipped it slowly, listening to the noise around him. The jukebox in the corner was old and rusty, but worked well enough, filling the place with sounds of long forgotten hits.

“All I wanted to say is… If you ever need a favour, you know where to find me.”

Even with CASIE turned off (he wouldn’t try to use it on Malik after that one time she yelled at him), Adam could tell the pilot was tense.

And sad, though her sadness was hidden under layers of anger.

“I don’t– ” Faridah hesitated. The glass in her hand was empty again but this time she didn’t ask for a refill. “I don’t think I’ll need another favour from you. There’s not much left for me in Hengsha.”

Adam listened to her voice, to the slow old song playing in the bar, and people talking all around him. But nothing mattered as much as her voice, sounding softer this time as she struggled to hide her true feelings.

“Evelyn… She…” Malik stared at her glass, tracing the rim with her index finger. “She was happy with that bastard before he…” She let out a sigh. “I want to believe that she was happy with him, even for a short while.”

“Was Evelyn…” words got caught in his throat. What was he supposed to say about a woman he barely even knew? He learned more about her death than the person Evelyn Carmichael once was.

“I’m sorry, Faridah,” Adam finally said, his voice quiet.

Tears were flowing down Malik's face, her lips trembling as she sobbed quietly, mourning the loss of the woman she loved.

 


	5. VACLAV KOLLER

**_ludus_ **

**[** **playful love between young lovers]**

* * *

 

The door opened silently, Adam stepped inside a corridor leading to Vaclav Koller’s secret lair in his bookstore. The place was rather creepy, filled with all kinds of parts, prosthetics, pieces of tech, and everything else the doctor gathered for one reason or another. And of course in the centre of this mess was _The Chair_ that Koller deemed essential for his work.

The room seemed completely disorganised, though there was some brilliance in this chaos, as Adam witnessed many times. Koller always knew where to find the things he need at the moment, as if he could locate their exact location in piles of everything that littered his workplace. Or maybe this mess was his way of segregating stuff.

Jensen looked around to locate the man sitting by one of the desks, typing furiously on a keyboard while his eyes were glued to a monitor in front of him.

“I’ve got something you may find useful,” Adam said, putting a small box on a table next to him. He opened and glanced inside. “I don’t really know what it is, so maybe you can tell me.”

The box was filled with computer parts, at least they looked like that. He found them when he was, ah, _exploring_ the city. It just so happened that he knocked out about ten guys who were part of some new gang operating beneath the streets of Prague. The box seemed important for them, so obviously Adam took it with him. There was only one person in the city who most likely knew what it was, and that was how Jensen ended up coming here.

Koller stopped typing, his prosthetic hands hovering above the keyboard, and whipped his head to look at Adam. “Jensen! It’s good to see you!”

_At least there’s one person who’s always happy when he sees me…_ , Adam thought.

Koller stood up, stretched and yawned. He was quite a sight, like always. Today he was wearing dark blue jeans and an old t–shirt that used to be black but now was greyish and torn in places. His lab coat was gone, probably laying on the floor around here, his hair was messy. No matter how long he slept he had dark circles under his eyes.

“Let’s see what you got there.”

He walked to the table and looked inside the box. At once his expression changed, making Jensen slightly concerned.

Koller’s eyes were so wide, mouth opened, that he resembled a fish taken out of water. He switched to Czech, talking so quickly Adam couldn’t understand a word. After living in Prague for a while, he knew some basic expressions (such as asking a shop assistant if they had  his favourite brand of cereal), but the sounds produced by Koller were beyond his level of understanding.

“Slow down,” Adam said, raising a hand.

“Holy shit, do you even know what you brought here?” Koller asked, excitement marking his English with a heavy accent. He gestured wildly, his usually pale face flushed. “Do you see what I’m seeing? Did Christmas come early this year? How did you even get all this?”

“I found it.” Even though Jensen’s reply was vague like hell they understood each other well enough so he didn’t ask for any explanation. Koller simply laughed and patted Adam on the shoulder.

“Lucky you, finding the latest augs just laying around,” he shook his head. “This shit’s so top secret I can’t even get them on the black market. And you simply bring them to me like it’s not a big deal!”

Adam lowered his head to hide his smile. The augs had been most likely stolen, then he stole them from the thief and brought them to Koller. Did that make him a thief as well? To be honest he didn’t have a clue what are these, because they didn’t look like anything he knew.

“So I guess you’ll make use of this stuff,” he simply said, shrugging.

Koller raised up his hand, his index finger tapped Adam’s temple. Jensen obediently retracted his sunglasses, and their eyes met.

“Thank you,” Koller said. Giddy excitement was gone from his voice, replaced by honest gratitude. “You could have just sold it all without even knowing what it is, but you chose to give it to me. You know what’s the word on the streets, right? It’s all true.”

“What?” Adam asked, confused.

“People whisper about a man helping out those in need,” Koller replied with a smile on his lips. “Some even say he’s a _hero_.”

“If I ever meet him, I’ll tell him a certain aug specialist says hi.”

Koller laughed. “Actually, could you give him a message from me? It’s very important.”

He moved closer, lifting up his head so his lips could brush Adam’s. The kiss was short but sweet, making Adam wonder if he should stay for longer.

“As I mentioned, it’s always good to see you,” Koller said, his fingers stroking the back of Jensen’s neck.

Adam answered with a smile. He rarely smiled, because, well, his life was complicated as it was. Not so long ago Alex asked him if he even knew how to smile, admitting that the only emotion she ever saw on his face was his signature frown.

Little did she know that there was someone who made it easy for Adam to smile despite everything else that was happening around him.


	6. FRANCIS PRITCHARD

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings: this chapter includes spoilers for System Rift  
> A/N: I’d like to point out that System Rift was released on September 23rd. You know what’s on September 23rd?  
> Bisexuality Awareness Day.  
> I have no idea if Eidos did that on purpose, but come on…

**_pragma_ **

**[enduring love; love that has aged, matured and developed over time]**

* * *

The sound of his doorbell was a surprise. A big one, considering Adam didn’t get many visitors.

Alex had been here a few times; Koller visited once as most of the times he preferred to stay at his place. Jensen’s neighbours didn’t care, why would they anyway. Though there was that old drunk who somehow always managed to climb all the way up to pound his fists on Adam’s door, yelling loudly until someone called the police.

Adam turned off the TV, got off the couch and walked to the door. He had a day off, which happened almost never; he was greatly enjoying doing exactly nothing and wasn’t expecting anyone. The doorbell rang again, indicating someone’s impatience. Confused, Jensen opened the door, not bothering to check who was standing on the other side first.

Seeing his unexpected guest, the first thing that came to Adam’s mind was that he was hallucinating. Then he thought it must be some kind of trick, because it was completely improbable that no other person that _Francis Pritchard_ could materialise on Jensen’s doorstep.

Adam hesitated; it seemed impossible, yet here he was. Frank Pritchard was standing at Jensen’s door, looking at him with surprise painted on his face.

CASIE caught him off guard, providing numerous information about his guest (it really was Frank, it seemed) but he dismissed them all. He wanted– _needed_ to understand it all by himself.

Pritchard looked exactly like the day he contacted Jensen, though seeing him on a screen was nothing like looking at him in person. His eyes seemed more blue, more intense, his face paler despite the slight blush on his cheeks.

The cologne he used was exactly the same like before, and something inside Adam stirred at the memory.

The expression on Pritchard’s face changed in an instant, however, as his eyes scanned Adam from head to toes. “My god, Jensen, don’t you own a single shirt? Or do you prefer to walk around half naked?”

Confusion in Adam’s thoughts changed to slight annoyance, prompted by the hacker’s tone of voice. This was Francis Pritchard, there was no doubt about it. He could always recognise this annoyingly pompous tone of voice that the hacker liked to use back when they were working for Sarif together.

“I’m in my own apartment, I can do whatever the hell I want,” Adam retorted with a slight frown. He couldn’t quite decide if he liked the way Pritchard was so blatantly staring at him.

Frank scoffed. “Yes, of course you can. Anyway, are you going to invite me in, or should I start looking for a hotel? Prague’s a beautiful city, I’ve heard.”

“Why don’t you visit one of your hacker friends?” Jensen asked in an irritated voice, but he moved aside so his unexpected guest could get inside. “Or was ShadowChild the one and only friend you ever made?”

Pritchard ignored the question, walking to the main room. He glanced around, his face a mask. It was hard to say if the man was curious, impressed or quite contrary – disappointed by what he saw.

“Are you going to tell me why are you here?” Adam asked.

Frank turned around, eyes scanning the surroundings, not even looking at Jensen.

“Sarif’s thinking about relocating the company to Europe. My job is to investigate the market for him.”

“You’re a terrible liar.”

Pritchard scoffed. “Joking aside, give Sarif a call. He’s impossibly worried about his favourite son.”

“Are you going to tell me what are you doing here?”

Frank gave Adam a look, studied his face for a while before moving to sit on the couch. Confused and slightly annoyed with every passing second, Jensen followed, though he decided to stand in front of the hacker instead of sitting down by his side.

“Well?” Adam prompted, arms crossed over his chest.

“I needed to go to Vienna, and, well… Vienna’s rather close to Prague.”

Pritchard looked up at Adam, something like an unspoken question (or a _plea_ , even)  glistening in his eyes.

Frank Pritchard’s carefully constructed persona of a smart individual who keept everyone at distance fell apart the moment one cared enough to notice how his eyes betrayed him. He could hide his emotions quite well, better than Adam, actually. Back in the day, Francis Pritchard wasn’t liked by other employees of Sarif Industries simply because he didn’t allow anyone to get close enough to understand him.

Except Jensen.

_Stress relief_ , Adam used to call their ‘relationship’, refusing to admit that deep down he cared.

The truth was that he cared _too_ much, even after so long. Simply hearing Pritchard’s voice and seeing his face on a screen had nearly crushed his heart to pieces.

Adam naively believed that after doing that job for him (for Sarif, in fact, but that was a completely different matter), once Frank got what he needed from the Palisade bank, Jensen would finally be at peace.

He wasn’t. At all.

“I thought you wasn’t supposed to contact me ever again,” Adam said, vaguely wondering if at some level he wanted his words to hurt. It was easier than to think he missed Pritchard terribly.

Frank opened his lips, his eyes narrowing and eyebrows furrowing ever so slightly – a sign that he had an angry, sarcastic comment ready. But then his expression changed, which only made Adam more confused. Pritchard never refused to challenge him, so it was odd, to say the least, to see the man so… timid.

“I know you’re planning to do something awfully _stupid_ , most likely, and you’re probably on a path to get yourself killed,” Frank let out a sigh. His attempt to say it all jokingly fell flat, his voice marked by concern.

“I don’t need you to babysit me.”

Only when the words were spoken, Adam noticed how _angry_ he sounded. Was he, really? Or maybe his anger was nothing more but an act, something to hide behind instead of admitting his true feelings.

Francis Pritchard was right here, so close Adam could reach out to touch him. Yet he couldn’t bring himself to show some actual emotions other than anger, scared by the intensity of his own feelings, refusing to hope for more.

Pritchard shook his head. He stared at the floor, avoiding Jensen’s intense gaze. “I’m not here to babysit you. I’m offering help, if… If you’d have me.”

Just like that Adam’s anger and irritation vanished. Pritchard’s voice was calm and soft, yet full of poorly masked worry.

“Whatever you’re planning to do, whatever mess you want to get yourself into,” Frank continued, looking up at Adam, “I want to be there. I want to be by your side.”

Jensen found himself unable to respond. Some distant ache awakened inside him, so strong as if someone pierced his very soul with a blade.

He kneeled down, ignoring the fact that he might look foolish, his hand reaching to touch Frank’s face.

_No matter how little you say, your eyes tell so much_ , Adam thought, and wondered if it was once true for him, when he was still fully human.

In a moment of weakness his thoughts drifted to the memories of Megan. There was always so much confidence in her eyes, and love that later changed, perhaps into something else entirely.

But Megan Reed was far away from him, alive or dead – he wasn’t sure anymore. He didn’t know if the numbness in his heart was because he cared so much or that he didn’t care at all.

_Doesn’t matter_ , Adam decided, leaning in as Pritchard wrapped his arms around him and pulled him close. He closed his eyes and inhaled the familiar scent. So many things had changed; Frank Pritchard remained the same, and Adam was grateful for that.

Jensen gave up and allowed himself to surrender, amazed by his overwhelming need to touch and be touched.

“Thank you,” he whispered out loud or in his thoughts, he couldn’t tell. Words weren’t needed anymore, his desperate touch was an answer enough.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N2: comments are always appreciated.


End file.
